


The Yellow Wallpaper

by orphan_account



Category: The Yellow Wallpaper - Charlotte Perkins Gilman
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, Gen, Help, I did not try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25302763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Yellow Wallpaper but in John's POV. English assignment that I kinda bullshitted, aka not good.
Kudos: 1





	The Yellow Wallpaper

“I think Jane has fallen ill again.”

John sighed, still weary from his trip. “How could it be? Just yesterday you told me that she’s been recovering nicely.”

“Well, she won’t leave her room. I tried everything but she wouldn’t answer. She even told me that she would skip dinner, and would call for me when she woke. But look!” she gestured to the clock. “It’s almost noon now!”

“She’s most likely just tired. As am I.” John tried to walk past her.

“No, no, that’s not all.” Jennie blocked him again. “Earlier today, I caught her ripping off the wallpaper.”

“Is that so? Well it is rather ugly.”

“Try to understand. It wasn’t just little strips, she practically tore off half the walls! I gently told her to stop. And then she looked at me so venomously. Me, her own sister!”

John had enough of this. “Alright. Calm yourself. I’ll go see her.”

He slowly dragged up the stairs before reaching the room at the end of the hall. He heard the faintest sound of rustling paper. She must be writing again. John sighed and twisted the doorknob only to find that it wouldn’t budge. How strange, the door was never locked before. He gave a gentle knock. “Darling, are you alright?” The sound of the rustling paper grew, no longer pleasant; but scratchy and course. John called out again. “Darling it’s me. Please open the door.” No response. He gave a harsh knock and called out again; but he was only met with that same sound. What on earth was she doing? As time passed, John’s cries and knocks grew louder and louder.

Growing desperate, he called out “Jennie! Get me an ax!” At that he heard the muffled voice of his wife through the door. Something about a key under a plantain leaf. She sounded perfectly fine, but John knew better. He responded in the softest tone he could muster “Open the door, my darling.” But he was met with the same response. He hesitated, wondering if he should leave in this dire moment. She must not have heard him move, as she kept persisting over and over like a broken record.So John dashed out to the yard in search of the key. “Get out of my way!” he pushed past Jennie and burst out the door.

“Why what’s the matter?” Jennie peered outside.

“A key! Help me find a key!” John ripped apart every plant in sight, desperate to find it.

“You mean the one on the front path?” Jennie pointed at the shiny object two feet behind him. John quickly grabbed it before shoving past Jennie again. He practically tripped over himself while running up the stairs. By the time he reached the door, he was tired and heaving. With a shaky hand, John unlocked the door and rushed in. He only took one step before stopping short in his tracks. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

The walls were stripped bare and the floor was flooded with waves of yellow. Then that terrible noise came back. It was comparable to the screeches of a dead throat; a cacophony of bleeding nails and lost souls. He looked around, trying to find where it was coming from. He froze as he watched a body emerge from behind the bed, crawling against the wall; every movement causing the wallpaper to scratch and scrape against the floor, creating that horrible sound. Her hair was disheveled and unruly, a bird’s nest on her head. She completely ignored his entrance, still crawling. He really thought that Jennie was being dramatic, but seeing her in this state shocked him to the core. John sputtered out “What’s the matter?” She was silent, still crawling through the sea of paper. “For God’s sake what are you doing!”

She looked up and John felt fear crawl down his spine. His wife’s once lovingly warm eyes were now bloodshot and feral. Completely foreign. “I’ve gone out at last in spite of you and Jane? And I’ve pulled off most of the paper, so you can’t put me back!”  
This creature was not his wife. He then felt something akin to dread pool in his stomach. How could this happen? He was so careful, so caring. But she was past treatment. Nothing could cure her now. He fainted at that thought.

When he came to, he saw that it was still creeping along the wall.

**Author's Note:**

> This was not fun. The minimum word count is 750. So of course I wrote 740+long title and header.


End file.
